Mechanical
by PatrioticStars
Summary: In an era of advanced tech., mutants risen from nuclear radiation, and a tyrannical king, life is...complex. With criminals, spies, and secret operations abound, you don't know who to trust. In some cases, you can't even trust yourself. Even worse, anyone who tries to push for change is as good as dead. Despite this, starting a rebellion is just way too tempting for a certain few.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Welcome to a new story that I hopefully won't decide to delete! My other one sucked anyway, let's face it. It was a total mess. Maybe I'll start it up again in the future, who knows (probably not though).**

 _ **Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Hetalia or its characters. The only thing here that I own is the plot idea for this story.**_

 _ **Warnings: Possible character deaths, graphic descriptions, violence, blah**_ _ **blah blah. Anything you'd expect from a dystopian/post-apocalyptic story setting.**_

 **Also, there will be some Nyotalia characters in here.**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

With the pollution-clouded sky dark and spotted with dim stars, the night air cool and dry, and the wilderness appearing to be clear of mutants for the time being, three men sat in a resting area, keeping each other awake with jokes and stories and plans for a better future.

The year was 2215, and society had both evolved and remained the same from what it was 200 years prior. It had advanced greatly in technology to the point where mechanical upgrades on human bodies were as common as new haircuts or clothing. Beginning as defense mechanisms against the deadly mutants that had surfaced from a nuclear war, upgrades became a trend and an accessory, but also remained functional. However, unlike technology and medicine, the behavior and tendencies of mankind unfortunately had not changed. There was still conflict and tensions, people were still greedy, the government still attempted to dominate its people, and the rich and powerful still overpowered lower classes.

Life certainly had not gotten any simpler. With monsters risen from nuclear radiation, the humans have built walls around six separate territories to protect themselves, divided by a perilous wilderness that only three types of people dared to set foot in. These people were soldiers, bandits, and messengers. Soldiers attempted to keep the mutants at bay while also traveling to different territories to protect what passed for peace and order these days. Bandits refused to live under the rules of the Center, the most powerful territory where the King resided, and therefore lived as criminals, robbing and killing those passing by for weapons, supplies, and food. Messengers probably had one of the worst and best jobs. They had to travel from territory to territory in small teams, delivering messages that could not be sent over telecommunications, items and research specimens, and sometimes people. While doing this, they would have to face mutants in great numbers day and night. Because of their deadly but important jobs, messengers and soldiers received the most advanced upgrades and weapons, and also had the highest pay with the best quality of living. But to most of them, it still was not enough.

You would be correct in guessing that the three men sitting in the resting area were messengers. What were they delivering, you ask? They didn't even initially know. All they knew was that it is a very important letter that the Center could not risk getting sent over telecommunications. So, the Central territory, the second most powerful territory and closest to the Center, entrusted the three best messengers with the task of carrying this classified letter to the King safely. They did not know that this would be the biggest mistake they could have made.

"So, who wants to do the honors of opening this one?" asked one of the men, a loud, pale one with hair that was almost white despite his young age of twenty-six. He waved the letter they were sworn to protect in front of his team like he was taunting a dog with treats. The other two men settled on rock-paper-scissors to decide who opens the letter and looks at it first.

With a satisfied smirk, the man on the right stuck his tongue out at his opponent, having thrown rock while the latter had thrown scissors. "Good luck next time," he said smugly, snatching the letter from the first man. He tucked a strand of wavy blond hair behind his ear as he looked down at the official-looking letter, complete with the orange logo of the Central territory. A whimper came from the man he had defeated, and he glanced over to see him giving him big green puppy eyes.

"No, not this time. I refuse," the blond man said in a firm voice one would use when speaking to a child asking for candy before dinner. He eventually gave in, letting out a dramatic sigh and handing over the letter. The white-haired man laughed obnoxiously.

The third man grinned proudly, giving the blonde a quick, "Thank you," and then turning to the other man, asking him, "You have another envelope, right?" He received a positive reply, and then proceeded to tear open the letter excitedly, reading it aloud. "'Our Great and Noble King:'" He paused as the three of them laughed at the lies in those five words, and then decided to restart. After he finished, he passed the letter around for the others to look at themselves.

 _Our Great and Noble King:_

 _We are sending this letter to inform you that we and all other territories have been told of your plans to activate the control mechanisms in all upgrades affected, and that we will proudly stand by and await your initiation. Your proposed date was July 15, 2215, therefore that will be the date we prepare for. If we could, we would love to add that this plan is absolutely genius and we are surprised it has not been thought of sooner._

 _We also are excited to report that the Western territory has discovered the identity of two rebels, and are sending some of their best soldiers to dispose of them. With the aid of your locator chips, they will track these two fairly easily. They should be stopped by the time you receive this message. Unfortunately, this still leaves a few more rebels and anyone in allegiance to them, however, we can assure you that we will work tirelessly to identify and terminate this menace._

 _The territories are hopeful for the future, and ever loyal to you. As always, we will anticipate more great things to result from your rule._

 _Sincerely,_

 _The Central Territory_

The three messengers stared at the letter in confused terror and shocked silence. The green-eyed brunette decided to shatter the suffocating silence by folding the letter back up and sealing it in a new envelope, then turning to his friends to attempt at saying comforting words. "I'm sure that they were not talking about any of us. What have we done to give up our identity? And... They would not have given us this letter to deliver if they had known what we were, right? We'll be fine!" He tried to smile at them, but the other two just continued to absently stare at the table where the letter was, drowning in their thoughts and growing fears. The brunette sighed and frowned, fearing the worst himself.

"But it was the Western territory that figured it out, not Central," the white-haired one pointed out in a rarely used hushed voice. "They could have written this letter without knowing. Fuck, we're dead! They're sending soldiers after us!" He began to pace back and forth in the dark room, frantically muttering to himself in German. In the midst of his panic, he suddenly stopped and grinned. "Wait, we're awesome! More specifically, _I'm_ awesome! And we have badass weapons and upgrades! No way will a couple soldiers stand a chance against us!"

"And there is still a small possibility that they were not talking about us," the blonde chimed in, regaining confidence. "There are rebels other than us around. Plus, I know many Western soldiers. Maybe if it is us, I will know whoever was sent. I can surely talk them out of hurting us with my beautiful looks and flawless charm." He smirked and laughed.

The three gradually lost their doubts and fears as the night went on, and soon were able to sleep in peace. The white-haired man sat outside of the rest area building during his night watch shift, scanning the area for mutants, bandits, or soldiers with his blaster within reach. As usual, nothing interesting was happening. There would be an occasional mutant in the distance, and he would raise his blaster and silently shoot it with a deadly beam, and then go back to sitting around, doing nothing.

As his shift came down to its final five minutes, the man stood up and stretched, letting out a long yawn before turning to head inside. He stopped mid-stride when his upgraded ears picked up footsteps a little over two hundred feet away. Grabbing his blaster, he hastily got inside and shook his friends awake. "Guys! Someone is coming! It sounds like two or three people. I think they're girls. The steps don't sound too heavy." He shut up for a second to listen more, seeing if he could get any more information from the footsteps. When he couldn't, he turned back to them and began to rush them to their feet. "Come on! Grab your blasters and get ready!"

Minutes later, there was a knock at the doors of the building. The first man was already right there, while the other two were still grabbing their weapons and readying themselves for a possible fight. _They're knocking? Who does that? They're either idiots, or know they can't lose..._ he thought to himself.

"Hello? Anyone gonna open up before I blast this door down?" said a loud female voice from the other side.

Hesitantly, the man unlocked the door and opened it, revealing two similar-looking girls who appeared to be in their late teens or very early twenties. The girls wore traditional Western soldier uniforms, and each had a decent amount of visible upgrades. However, they didn't seem like they could be a couple of the Western territory's best soldiers like the letter said they would be.

When the soldiers looked at the man, one of them—the one with shorter hair—glanced at a little screen on her upgraded arm, and shook her head slightly at her accomplice, who had been smiling politely at him the whole time. Without saying a word, they pushed past him and began making their way towards the remaining two messengers. The white-haired man rushed after them, his mind racing with returning fears and his heart pounding.

When he reached everybody, he was surprised to find them doing nothing but talking _._ "Do you not remember me, Amelia?" the blonde was asking the girl with shorter hair, a frightened look in his eyes. He then turned to the other one. "Madeline?"

"'Course we remember you," the short-haired girl, Amelia, told him, her weapon-loaded arm pointed at his head. "You're like a big bro to us. But that doesn't change anything. I'm sorry that I gotta do this, I really am. But it's my job, and I hope you understand. It's a shame that you've resorted to this kind of thing. I dunno why anyone would oppose the Center like this. Anyway, don't move. It just makes this complicated." He hung his head, feeling defeated, and did nothing to defend himself as Amelia aimed her arm at him and blasted, quickly doing the same to the brunette before he could even move. Both of them hit the floor.


	2. Start Over

July 15, 2215 was close, yet the public was unaware of what was really headed their way. The only people who knew were authority figures, the elite, and one messenger short of two best friends.

Morning washed over the wilderness, where that lone messenger, Gilbert, drove with his new team, or rather, partner, since he was only assigned to one person who had also lost his previous team. Gilbert had actually instantly befriended his new co-worker, realizing that their personalities were very alike, and that they had been in similar situations.

He had learned that this man was once part of a five-person team with his lifelong friends, one of which was only a teenager. They had encountered a large group of mutants, and he was the only one to make it out with just minor injuries, even with all of the upgrades and weapons they each had. Everyone else had to be sent to the Center Emergency Hospital, and he was later told that not one of them had made it.

The only thing that Gilbert didn't like about this guy was that he was a former soldier.

An awkward silence fell upon the two as they drove in a small jeep on a path between the Western and Central territories, carrying a metal box containing some kind of new technology. Gilbert found it difficult not to look at every item they were given to transport, being so used to doing so with his friends. In the past few months since they've been gone, more and more rebels had been discovered, but luckily, he wasn't one of them. Soon, it had come down to just him, just like it had been like when he formulated the idea for this whole group. He had debated over recruiting more people, but who could he trust? Maybe his new partner, but he wasn't too sure about him just yet, considering his background.

In the driver's seat, his partner, whose name was Mikkel, turned to him, slowing the jeep until it stopped. "You want to switch? I'm tired." He dramatically yawned for emphasis and stretched his arms and legs outwards.

"Already? It hasn't even been two hours!" Gilbert replied, raising his eyebrows. He smacked an arm away from his face.

Mikkel unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door on his side. "Yeah, but... I may or may not have stayed up all night drinking beer at a bar in Western territory." He shrugged, grinning, and walked to the passenger's side. "I'm not that hungover anymore. Just tired. I only got about an hour and a half of sleep. Please?"

Gilbert smirked at him and said, "Nope! We agreed that we would drive in three hour intervals! This is your own fault!" Mikkel groaned and walked back around the vehicle, hopping back behind the wheel and starting to drive again. "You're lucky you're my friend now. I would have definitely challenged you to a duel over this three months ago." He laughed and sped down the path, sipping the coffee he had in the cupholder to his right. "I would have won, too. I'm unstoppable with these cool armor upgrades I got last year." He tapped one of his mechanical hands.

At first glance, he didn't look like he had much. All anyone could see were his upgraded hands and feet. What they didn't know was that he could instantly cover himself from head to toe in armor, stemming from those hand and foot upgrades. This armor was nearly indestructible, and has saved him countless times. He had explained how it would normally cost a fortune, but he didn't have to pay much as he agreed to be the first person to test this new type of upgrade out. Luckily for him, he's had no problems thus far.

"Hey, what do you think of the King?" Mikkel suddenly asked.

Startled by this question, Gilbert just looked at him with wide eyes and blinked. "What?"

The other turned his head towards him and repeated his question louder. "What do you think of the King? Do you think he's a good guy? I know we're not supposed to talk about him in any way other than in a positive light, but, you know, it's just you and me here. Who cares what we say, right?"

It was rare for anyone to question the King's authority, even if it was when no one else was around to get them in trouble. Most people never even thought about questioning him, being brainwashed into thinking he was some sort of savior or hero. And yet, here was a former soldier and loyal messenger asking about Gilbert's _opinion_ as if they all had a choice in what they thought about him. It was crazy, and Gilbert was all over it.

Excited to finally have a real conversation about their tyrannical ruler for the first time in months, Gilbert jumped at the chance. "He's the least awesome person on the planet! He's controlling, unfair, greedy, and just a really horrible guy. I can't believe my own little brother is a loyal captain in his military. I wish I could just throw him into a pit of mutants and see how he likes it. Everyone works their asses off while he sits and pretty much does nothing! Everybody is so blind, it's insane." He was happy to get that off his chest, but became worried when Mikkel stared at him blankly without saying a word. He was sure he'd turn him in.

But then he smiled. He smiled and pat Gilbert on the shoulder with his metal hand, laughing and turning back around to face the road. "I knew you were a great guy! Finally, someone who agrees with me!" He let out a happy sigh of relief. "I hate that bastard, too. I'd be a waaaaay better king than him! Oh, have you heard of that group of rebels? We should find them and see if we could join 'em! Well, if there are any left."

Gilbert finally made his decision to tell him what he's been wanting to tell him for a while. "Oh, yeah, that won't be too hard." He sighed. Should he really tell him? ...Yes. "Remember how I told you that my team got killed by mutants? They weren't... They were killed by a couple of soldiers—who, by the way, actually knew one of them—because the Western territory found out that they were rebels. I don't know how, but they did, and apparently they never figured me out. I'm the founder, leader, and the last member."

Shock and excitement smacked Mikkel in the face. Hard. So hard that he started asking a million questions per minute. "Woah! That is so cool! Do you have any plans? Are you going to let more people join? How close have you gotten to the King? Have you found out any secret information? Is the King doing anything evil? Do you have a secret hideout? How do you stay so hidden? Do you think you'll ever be caught? Can I join you, please?!"

Gilbert took a second to process all of the questions hurled at him, and then opened his mouth to gladly answer them. "Ja, I do have a few plans, but they're not that ready. I do want to start recruiting more people, and I suppose you're cool enough to be the first. I've walked up to the king and handed him a letter before. Well, handed it to one of his guards, but he was right there, so close enough. I have actually learned about a few secret things, but I'll tell you that later. The King is definitely doing something evil, and I'm going to stop him because I'm awesome! I don't have a secret hideout. And I can stay hidden because, again, I am _awesome_. Also because I'm so awesome, I'll never get caught. Oh, and if you're going to be the first to join, you'll have to help me find more people."

"Oh my god! I know exactly who we should get first!" Mikkel exclaimed, a big smile still on his face. "We were in the military together before I decided to become a messenger. She's pretty cool. She was the only person to survive the test flights over the wilderness, so she's a trained pilot! I mean, I guess that's a little useless since we're not allowed to fly above the walls anymore. Anyway, she's strong as hell, and pretty hot at the same time. And I know what you're thinking. 'She's a soldier; isn't she loyal to the Center?' Yeah, but I've heard her criticize the King. They do things to soldiers to manipulate their minds, you know? She really tries to fight her loyalty, I can tell."

"Sounds great!" said Gilbert. A feeling of hope began to form. Sure, he wasn't with his best friends, but he might actually have a chance of finishing what they had tried to start. "Man, this is going to be fun. We could totally be...hmm...an awesome trio! The awesome trio of rebels, fighting against the big bad King in the awesomest way possible!"

The two messengers began excitedly throwing ideas and plans back and forth. It became clear that both had been waiting for this opportunity for a very long time. Each voiced idea after idea, building upon each other, connecting two separate plans, or creating completely new ones. They had finally found someone they could trust, and it was the greatest feeling in the world considering the lives they were forced to live. Others didn't understand, and so they were all at least somewhat content. But rebels knew better.

The jeep drove on towards their destination in Central territory, surprisingly without any threats. A scan of their surroundings for a hundred miles in every direction would show that the wilderness was completely empty of any hostile living things. A few small, harmless mutants could be seen every now and then, but ignoring those, the messengers were alone, surprised themselves at this rare occurrence. However, in the wilderness, it was almost impossible for this kind tranquility to last.

Before they knew it, the two men finally reached the first resting area and parked in one of the few spaces in the garage, securing the door afterwards. Then, they entered the building, where they could eat, watch the news, sleep, stock up on needed supplies, and many other things.

After getting themselves settled, they sat in the living room-like area and watched the news. Gilbert, with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, turned to Mikkel, who sat back in a comfortable-looking recliner, nodding off. "So, Mikkel, exactly why did you leave the military? You never specified." When he didn't answer, Gilbert began to throw popcorn at him until he woke up.

Mikkel jolted awake, sputtering out, "What? Huh? I wasn't asleep! Why am I covered in popcorn?" He looked down at the popcorn littering his torso for a moment before he began eating it.

"Suuuure." Gilbert smirked. "Anyway, I asked you a question. Why did you leave the military? I was just wondering since you never really told me." His hand hit the bare bottom of the popcorn bowl, so he shrugged and set it down on a nearby table.

"Oh, right," his companion said, sitting up. "I'd give you a really cool story about that, but I'm tired, so here's the short version. Basically, a couple mutants had gotten into the Northern territory, so I was one of the people ordered to kill them and calm everyone down. Someone threw a grenade too close to the wall, and part of it collapsed. I got hit by falling pieces, suffered some brain damage, got emergency upgrades, and by then I just decided I was done being a soldier. But hey, now I have better vision, coordination, muscle control, and balance, so that's pretty cool!"

The other nodded, amazed. This guy had obviously been through a lot, way more than him, and yet he still behaved like an energetic, happy child 85 percent of the time. Of course, that still didn't make him more awesome than him, but that was impossible, anyway. "Oh, and about that girl you were telling me about, where can we find her?"

Mikkel shrugged, replying with, "Not sure, exactly. Normally the soldiers are either in the Center or patrolling their home territory. I guess we can check the Center first since that's a little closer to Central territory, and then the Western territory when we get the chance. That's where she's from. Her name's Amelia, by the way." He sat back, ready to drift off to sleep again.

"Amelia?" Gilbert raised an eyebrow at the strangely familiar name. As he came to the gradual realization while putting puzzle pieces together, his eyes widened and he shook Mikkel awake again. "You said Amelia, right? Does she have short hair and an arm upgrade with built-in weapons?!" His friend's horrified face flashed in his mind with some of his last words: _"Do you not remember me, Amelia?"_

Mikkel groaned and sat up again, nodding. "Yeah... Wait, you know her?" He looked at him, confused about why he looked like he had just seen a dead man come to life.

"N-Not really... She... _Mein gott_..." He tried to speak, but couldn't bring himself to pull together a full sentence. Her smug face was the next thing to flash in his mind, along with her reply to his friend: _"You're like a big bro to us,"_ shortly followed by her merciless, _"Anyway, don't move. It just makes this complicated."_ Two blasts. Two bodies collapsing. A laugh.

She _laughed_.

Mikkel got up from the recliner and sat beside Gilbert on the couch, giving him a concerned look. "You okay?" He put a hand on his shoulder, but he continued to stare into space, utterly terrified, muttering to himself. "Gil? Gilbert?" He waved a hand in front of his face and snapped a couple times, frowning when it didn't work.

 _She killed them. She can't help us. Why would she? She's loyal to the King and no one else. They're dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead. Blasted away like they didn't even matter. My best friends. Dead. I fucking hate the King's soldiers. I hate them. I hate all of them._

 _"I'm sorry I gotta do this, I really am."_

 _Then why did you kill them?!_

 _"But it's my job, and I hope you understand."_

 _How can he understand when he's DEAD?!_

 _Dead._

 _Dead._

 _Dead..._

 _OW!_

"Gilbert!"

Gilbert snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a sharp stinging sensation on his left cheek. He looked up at Mikkel, who stood in front of him, retracting his arm from the hard slap he had just given him. The blonde held an empty water bottle in his other hand, and Gilbert suddenly realized that his own hair and shoulders were wet.

"What's wrong?" his partner asked, visibly worried.

"Amelia, she..." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "She killed them. She killed Francis and Antonio. We're not letting her join us." His voice was firm and serious with that last sentence, filled with anger and hate. He stood up and walked to another room, the one with all the beds, and picked the bed furthest toward the back to lay in and pull the covers over his body.

Mikkel followed him, frowning, and stood by his bed as the other turned his back to him. "I didn't know that... Sorry, Gilbert. But I swear, she isn't always like that! Actually, she doesn't usually kill people...I don't know why she would, especially if she knew one of them like you said." He exhaled loudly, sitting on one of the empty beds. "Give her a chance, pleeeaaase?"

"No. Not her."

"But..." He trailed off, deciding to let it go for now. Getting to his feet, he gave Gilbert a pat on the shoulder. "I guess I'll take the first shift," he said to him as he exited the room quietly.

Back in the living room area, Mikkel plopped down on the couch and continued to watch the news kept on a low volume, keeping his blaster safely right beside him. He was just in time to hear an overview of the upcoming news to be reported on.

"Tonight on the King's News: Four messengers were found dead between the Northern and Eastern territories this morning. Was this the work of mutants, or something else? Also tonight, the Center cautions citizens about upgrade dealers. Friendly reminder that getting upgrades installed by unauthorized figures is indeed illegal, punishable by life in prison. And finally, July 15 is just around the corner. We are all excited to learn what new things our King has to announce on this date, and we encourage the public to get new upgrades in celebration of his day."

Too lazy to listen to the details on the stories, Mikkel shut the television off and stretched. It was quiet and cool that night, so he decided to sit outside, reaching into his backpack and grabbing a glossy piece of paper before heading out.

Breathing in the somewhat-fresh air, the man leaned up against the outside wall of the building and slid onto the ground, staring at the paper he held in his hand. It was a picture of five boys ranging from four to eleven in age: a tall, intimidating one standing close to a shorter and more welcoming one, a serious one who seemed to be slightly annoyed and was holding hands with the youngest, and one with a big grin and crazy hair standing right in the middle. All of the boys wore costumes and held wooden swords. Mikkel smiled sadly at the picture from his childhood, remembering the fun times he had with his best friends, who eventually became his messenger team.

The team he let down.

With a heavy sigh, he slipped the picture into his pocket and stared out at the unforgiving wilderness. He knew how Gilbert felt, but he held onto the belief that Amelia could help them. He was still shocked that she was the one he had heard about. She had always talked about how she hated killing people because that wasn't what heroes did, and she definitely saw herself as a hero. Something wasn't right. Heroes didn't just become villains on their own.


	3. Lies

"What do you mean she's not here? That doesn't make any sense!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Jones, but we have no records of a Madeline Williams being a patient here."

The young girl standing on the other side of the desk ran a hand through her short blond hair and let out a stressed breath. She looked at the woman staring back at her with frantic eyes. "You don't understand. That's my sister! She was checked in two weeks ago and I haven't heard anything about her since! I wasn't even allowed to visit!" She kicked the wall to her right in frustration, unintentionally creating a large hole with her upgraded leg. She ignored it and faced the woman again. "Please. I'm begging you, just tell me where my sister is." She grabbed the woman's shoulders and looked at her like a kicked puppy.

"Miss Jones, you're hurting me," said the woman calmly.

The girl quickly let go, giving a quick, "Oops, sorry," before going right back to pleading. "I know she's been here. I had to drag here here myself after we were attacked! She can't just not be here! Please! I can't just lose her like this!" She kicked another hole in the wall, this time on purpose. The woman stepped back a bit, but kept her calm composure and silently signaled for security to remove the girl.

"No luck?" asked a man aged a few years older than the nineteen-year-old. He had been patiently waiting outside of the Center Emergency Hospital when the girl was thrown out by security. "I told you she was not there, Amelia," he said before he got a reply to his initial question. "What did you do this time?" He spoke as if this was just an annoying routine.

Amelia shrugged and began walking away from the hospital, crossing her arms over her military uniform. "Kicked a couple holes in a wall. I didn't mean to, though! Well, the first time, anyway..." She looked at the other to hear a sigh and see an expected what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you face. "Arthur, I swear, Maddie was there. I carried her there after she was wounded. I paced back and forth in a waiting room for two damn hours just to hear that her wounds were life-threatening and she would need emergency upgrades. Don't try to tell me I just made all of this up! And if I did, then where the hell is my sister?!" She stopped in the middle of the parking lot and stood in front of him.

"Please lower your voice and calm down." Arthur gave her a disapproving look as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the curb. He shut his eyes in annoyance, took a calming deep breath in, and then breathed out slowly, opening his eyes again. He appeared to be in slight pain as he spoke to her, as if having a mild headache, but Amelia did not notice. "Amelia, I would appreciate it if you would not make up stories."

Amelia balled her hands into fists and narrowed her eyes at him. "Dude, I just said that I'm not making anything up! Are you even listening to me?! You know what, just because you're all important and stuff doesn't mean you know everything that goes on here! What if the King—"

Arthur slapped a hand over her mouth before she could finish her sentence, glancing around as casually as he could. Through clenched teeth he warned, "Don't even think about it. If authorities come after you because you say something stupid, I won't be there to help you. I would rather not be imprisoned or killed, thank you." He and Amelia shared a tense three seconds of silence before she looked at his hand over her mouth and licked it. With a small yelp, he pulled his hand away, wiping it on his shirt. "You are such a child!"

"Whatever, man," she said with a snicker. "You should've expected that. Anyway, I gotta get to HQ for checkups before I'm late again. Last time I was late they... Actually, I don't remember what happened, exactly. I think they erased that part. So...bye!" She grinned and waved at him as she ran down the sidewalk.

The Center Headquarters was a multi-purpose building for the royal military, primarily for temporary housing while on missions away from home and for monthly checkups on the soldiers. These checkups were not what you would expect them to be like. In addition to getting an update on physical health and repairing or enhancing certain upgrades, they also went through a process in which specific parts of their memory were erased. This eliminated the issue of dealing with lingering guilt of things a soldier may have done. The King wanted his soldiers to do their jobs efficiently, and they couldn't do that if they were having internal problems.

On that note, new soldiers also went through a process of desensitization, limiting most feelings of mercy or sympathy so they could carry out tasks without a doubt or problem. The soldiers of the King's military basically were engineered to be perfect robots who followed anything he said with little question, and whose loyalty was more than the rest of the population combined. However, the system was not completely fool-proof, and so the very few soldiers who have tried can occasionally resist orders. It was extremely difficult, but entirely possible.

Amelia walked into the Center HQ and to a room where she would wait for her turn. Sighing with the relief that she wasn't late this time, she sat in a chair and began fiddling with her arm upgrade and tapping on the smooth, shiny metal absentmindedly. Glancing around the room, she counted four other men; one with slicked-back blond hair who she recognized as a well-known captain from Central territory, one with straight blond hair and emerald eyes also wearing a Central territory uniform, one with a dark brunette ponytail wearing an Eastern territory uniform, and one with a mop of curly brown hair and a Southern territory uniform sleeping in his chair.

She made eye contact with the man with a ponytail, and he immediately got up and sat next to her. "You owe me money, remember, Amelia?" She looked at him for a second, and then suddenly recalled a moment where she borrowed money from him in Western territory for lunch when they were there on a mission. That was a while ago, and she still hadn't paid him back despite the few other moments she's worked with him.

"Money? Hmm... Nope! Don't remember owing any money!" She looked down at her arm and tried to look busy, tapping at the little screen on her wrist and hoping he would just go away. Just as he opened his mouth to say more, a woman dressed in a long white lab coat, large goggles, and bright pink gloves poked her head out of a door and looked around, calling the name "Yao Wang" and stopping when she saw him. As she did this, a man with red hair and bushy eyebrows emerged from behind her, exiting out the door on the opposite side of the room. Amelia felt the urge to call out to this man, who happened to be Arthur's brother, but didn't have enough time to before he slammed the exit door shut.

"You better have that money by the next time I see you!" Yao called to her as he made his way towards the woman in front of the open door.

"C'mon, dude, it was just lunch!" Amelia exclaimed back, throwing her hands into the air in defense.

He shook his head. "You practically bought the whole restaurant!" The woman tapped his shoulder, signaling him to hurry up, and he groaned before following her inside.

Another hour passed before Amelia's name was called. She jumped to her feet, happy to finally get moving, and almost tripped on the sleeping man's outstretched legs and she walked towards the open room. It was fairly large inside, and the walls, floor, and ceiling were painted a calming shade of blue. Little lights flashed on the various machines around the room, and faint beeping sounds could be heard every now and then. In the middle of the complex devices was a large chair similar to one you would expect to find at the dentist.

Amelia sat up on a bench against a wall and began a normal physical exam any average person would go through. Then, the pink-gloved woman motioned for the young soldier to lay down on the chair in the middle as she grabbed several long wires attached to a machine with a big screen and keyboard. She plugged the other ends of the wires into Amelia's external upgrades: one in each lower leg and one in her right arm. A switch was flipped on the machine and minutes later, information appeared across the screen. The woman unplugged the wires and wrapped them up into coils before putting them away. Next, she connected numerous thinner wires from another machine to her head before switching that one on and staring at the smaller screen, typing certain things in order to direct the machine to erase specified parts of her memory.

More minutes slowly passed by until it was finally over and the woman removed all of the wires. "Alright, Miss Amelia Jones, everything seems to be in order. You do not require any new upgrades or repairs, and you are generally in good physical shape. Since there are no areas of concern to discuss, you may leave." Amelia nodded and then left the room with the woman right behind her to call the next person.

As she walked upstairs to her room in the HQ, Amelia tried to figure out what parts of her memory from the past month were a complete blank for her now. Something happened during a mission just outside of Western territory where a horde of mutants threatened to breach one of the walls, but she could not remember what. There was nothing else, except for something occurring earlier during the current day. All she could recall was stopping at the hospital, then talking to Arthur about something. She shrugged it off, not particularly interested in her erased memory. After doing this sort of thing once a month for several years, one learns that this doesn't really matter and they can't do anything about it if it did.

Just as she was scanning a fingerprint and inputting a passcode to enter her room, a small red light on her arm flashed and details on a mission flashed onto the little screen. _Wanted organized criminal operating under the fake name 'Romano' plans to meet an ally atop an apartment building in the Center tonight at approximately 7:00 PM. All available soldiers must act for his capture._ Amelia took a glance at a clock down the hallway, which told her that it was 6:18 PM. Just enough time to grab some pizza before heading out to find the correct apartment building.

She abandoned her plans to eat a leftover hot dog and fries from her dinner the previous night and left HQ to head to the best pizzeria in the territory; one run by a cheerful Italian man and his grandsons. As she opened the front exit of the HQ, a wave of warm evening air hit her. Walking the three blocks it took to get to the pizzeria, she looked up at the colorful sky painted by the setting sun. She wished the world was always as pretty as that sky, but sadly that wasn't how it worked.

Her own feelings about their government confused her. She couldn't tell if she trusted them or not. It really was different every time. Sometimes she would feel complete loyalty to the King, and sometimes she felt like how he ran things wasn't always the best way to go. She wondered if they were trying to gain complete control of soldiers' minds, and that's why she herself sometimes did terrible things and sometimes skipped out on certain missions due to the severity of what was expected of her. At least, she assumed she'd done some terrible things, judging by the looks she occasionally got from people around the territories. Of course, she wouldn't actually remember any of these events by the beginning of each new month.

" _Ciao_ , Amelia!" greeted a happy voice from behind the front counter in the pizzeria. The voice belonged to Feliciano Vargas, one of the owner's grandsons. He was a very optimistic man only a couple years older than Amelia, with straight auburn hair that had a piece strangely curling upwards. She always saw him cutely flirting with female customers, sometimes without even realizing it. He had an unusual close friendship with that captain she had seen earlier at HQ, with their personalities almost being polar opposites, yet it seemed to work.

"Hey, Feli!" Amelia replied with a big grin as she approached the counter. She saw his brother come out from the kitchen. "Hey, Lovino!" Though he looked a lot like Feliciano, Lovino Vargas was nothing like his younger brother. Even with just looking at them side-by-side, you could tell they were very different. Appearance-wise, Lovino had slightly darker hair than his brother, with hazel eyes rather than amber-brown, and actually was just a bit shorter. He often wore a scowl rather than Feliciano's warm smile. The older brother also seemed to be a lot angrier and more rude than the younger, but just as much of a flirt whether he chose to acknowledge it or not. He normally treated every girl who came in surprisingly nicely, but he knew Amelia, and didn't really like her for no apparent reason.

"Oh, it's you," Lovino grumbled as he rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, you've come to order every damn thing on our menu again? You're practically a ticking calorie time bomb."

Feliciano frowned at him, saying, "Lovi! That is no way to speak to a customer! And isn't it good if she orders a lot?"

"Not when I'm left to make everything!" He raised his voice and glared at her before storming off, yelling, "Screw this, I'm not doing it! I have more important things to do, anyway!"

The younger brother sighed and turned back to Amelia with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, _bella_ , he's been grumpy lately. Well...he always is, but even more than usual! So, what would you like?"

"Just two slices of cheese pizza. I probably shouldn't eat too much considering I've got a mission at 7." The man nodded and called the order back into the kitchen in Italian, and returned to the counter after receiving a reply from Lovino, who had decided to work after all. Amelia leaned on the counter and started a conversation while she waited. "So, slow day? There are usually so many people in here!" She looked around at the empty-looking dining area, where only two other people were sat to eat.

Feliciano shrugged. "I suppose. I think people are starting to avoid us. They believe Grandpa is connected to that criminal they've been talking about on the news!" He frowned and shook his head sadly.

"Oh, that guy who calls himself 'Romano'? That's who I'm gonna catch later! HQ found out where he's gonna be next, so we've been ordered to stop him. Don't worry, Feli, I'll help clear your grandpa's name! I am the hero, after all!" She gave him a reassuring smile and posed with her hands on her hips, like a superhero on the front of a comic book, earning a laugh from Feliciano.

"That's good!" he said gratefully. "Oh, have you heard from Ludwig lately? He's in the Center right now, right?"

Amelia nodded, saying, "Yeah, I actually saw him not too long ago at HQ waiting for his checkup. I didn't talk to him, though."

The other nodded. "Well, if you see him again, tell him I said hi!"

"Sure thing, dude!"

The two continued to talk until her pizza was ready. She checked the time: 6:43 PM. "Crap, I should really get going if I'm gonna find this guy before 7." She quickly dug some money out if her pocket and threw it onto the table. "Thanks, guys! I'll just eat this on the way!" She picked up the two plates and stacked one on top of the other, taking a big bite of the top one and ignoring the burning in her mouth from not allowing it to cool down.

"I have to go, too," said Lovino from behind the counter as he wiped his hands on a rag and removed his apron. Feliciano looked at him, confused. "It's important," Lovino added. He hastily left before he was asked anything else.

Amelia waved goodbye to Feliciano and also left, having already finished one slice of pizza. The sun was gone by the time she stepped out into the night again, and she looked up at the sky as she swiftly made her way towards the nearest apartment building. She wished they could see more stars. Unfortunately, the pollution in the air plus the lights from civilization drowned out the light of many stars, leaving a quite dull, boring night sky.

She checked for any updates on the mission after roughly half an hour of searching a few buildings. Other soldiers who had already begun as well had reported almost every complex to be clear. Quietly cursing to herself, Amelia wondered if Romano had figured out that they were after him, and had chosen to switch locations. She decided that her suspicions were confirmed after being informed that every apartment complex had been searched with no luck.

With a heavy sigh, she walked out into the street from the current building she was in just as a loud _boom!_ was heard a few blocks down. Immediately turning and running in the direction of the thunderous sound, she could see black smoke billow upwards in large clouds accompanied by shouting and screaming. She finally reached the road, finding a destroyed government building in flames as civilians ran every which way in frightened chaos. While helping an injured woman dress several gushing wounds, she squinted through the blinding smoke and dust to see a group of armed figures running down the street away from the scene, using the pandemonium as a cover. After finishing up with the wounds, Amelia got up and swiftly ran after them, her upgraded legs coming in handy.

She stealthily followed the figures, who she could now see were a group of several men in pinstripe suits gripping old-fashioned pistols. They headed down a quiet backroad for quite some time, then veered right down a more narrow path leading to an old warehouse that appeared to be falling apart. They entered, dispersing throughout the inside with some men guarding entrances. Amelia hid behind a rusty truck near one of them, carefully raising her right arm and setting it on a silent blaster mode before aiming and firing at the large man guarding the opening. With a quick scan of her surroundings, she quickly got inside, hiding behind some big wooden crates and peeking out to the side of one.

The men who weren't stationed at entrances stood spread out around the open area, but seemed to be somewhat close to the center. In the midst of this stood a man with a fedora along with his pinstripe suit, and another man helplessly slumped on the ground at his feet. She couldn't identify the man with the fedora, for his back was turned to her, but she could clearly see that the other man was one of the higher-up politicians in the Center who was in close allegiance with the King. Even if she could see the man with the fedora, who by now she guessed was Romano, no one has ever seen him or any of his henchmen and walked away without a serious threat or death. One boy who accidentally walked in on him doing his work lived, but when he was asked about what he looked like, the boy refused to even acknowledge that anything happened.

Amelia slowly crawled to a group of closer crates so she could hear what was going on better. From her new position, she could see the profile of Romano and the politician. She studied this half of Romano's face and brought a hand to her mouth before gasping. It was Lovino.

There was a sudden gunshot, and then it fell dead silent in the large, empty warehouse. Amelia had been too busy with her inner thoughts after seeing the politician drop dead that she hadn't noticed that Ro—er, _Lovino_ had changed his position and now was nowhere to be found. Footsteps echoed off the walls, and then she felt something touch the side of her head. A pistol. She immediately aimed her weaponized arm back at him before he could react.

"Oh, please," Lovino scoffed. He glanced around at his men, and they immediately surrounded the two, their pistols aimed at Amelia. "Put that down before I have to hurt you."

She didn't move a muscle. "You're gonna hurt me either way. We both know that. So, how about you put your weapon down, and call off your gorillas. I don't wanna hurt you, Lovino."

He didn't move, either. "It's Romano!" he yelled. "When I'm out doing this with these idiots wearing this suit, I'm _Romano_. When I'm at that damn pizzeria with my stupid grandfather and good-for-nothing little brother, I'm _Lovino_. Got it?"

"Uh-huh, I got it, Lovino," she replied with a smirk. "Now put the gun down."

Lovino rolled his eyes and leaned in closer to her. "No. You're going to do what I say. I'm honestly not planning to kill you. I fucking hate soldiers. They've killed someone close to me. But I'm alright with you. As much as you annoy the hell out of me, I consider you as a friend. I'm no monster who will kill anyone who gets in my way, like you and the rest of our damn military. I operate a certain way. I kill certain people for specific reasons and then others when it is necessary. The reason that most of those who have encountered me have been killed is because they made our negotiation difficult. Do not make this difficult, Amelia."

She lowered her weapon a bit, not taking her eyes off of him. "At least tell me why you do this."

His intense glare faltered a little and he gritted his teeth. "I suppose telling you would be fair enough. But first," he paused and grabbed her by the collar, pulling her to about an inch from his face, "I'll give you a little warning. You see all of these men around me? They're everywhere in every territory. Say anything about what you saw or heard today, and they will not hesitate to kill you or someone close to you. Are we clear?" She gave a quick nod, but showed no fear.

"Good. Before I tell you anything, you should know that we're the good guys. Not you or that bastard who calls himself a great king. Us. We're the _heroes_." He stressed that last word on purpose.

"You? Tell that to the news headlines branding you as a heartless murderer. I'm the hero here." She stared right into his eyes, attempting to intimidate him just as much as he was attempting to intimidate her.

Lovino laughed. "Heartless murderer, huh? Is there really a difference between you and I? Think about it. I know what they do to soldiers to desensitize them. They want you all to be their killer puppets. So when we talk about 'heartless murderers', we're not just talking about me. At least I kill people who are evil."

"So do I," Amelia cut in.

"No, you don't. You kill mutants and good people who the government tells you are evil. My bo—I mean, my friend was a good person. He was nice to everyone, especially me. Even when I was a jerk to him, he didn't act like a jerk in return. Everyone liked him, and then he was just fucking killed by a soldier! The last thing I said to him was 'I hate you.' I didn't mean it, but I can't let him know that now, can I?!"

Amelia sighed. "And your point is?"

"My _point_ ," he threw her onto the floor on the word 'point' and put a foot on her stomach, "is that you and all the other soldiers kill innocent people and ruin lives. The King is just using you as pawns. He's the bad guy, not people like me or rebels. We're trying to help everyone. I only kill elite figures who stand with the King, because they're all on the side of the villains. You don't understand what this goddamn world is really like. The winning side is always the heroic side, whether they're really heroes or not. Remember that, and maybe you can reconsider your values. Now get out of here before I change my mind about killing you."


	4. The Trio

**I haven't updated in a while, sorry about that! I've been busy with school. Also...I'm lazy. I've steadily been writing about a sentence a day of this chapter, but I finally decided to finish it today!**

 **Now just a heads-up, this story will most likely alternate between the main plotline and other parts on the side that ultimately connect to the main one. I tend to do that with things I write, I dunno.**

 **By the way, what do you guys think of this so far? Anything I should add or change? Constructive criticism is always welcome!**

* * *

Gilbert awoke to silence and bright sunlight from a nearby window hitting his sensitive eyes. His hissed in pain when he opened them, and immediately pulled the bed covers back over his head. Just as he began to fall asleep again, he realized something: he had just nearly been blinded by sunlight. It was morning. He had slept through the entire night without Mikkel waking him up for his watch shift. This meant that now, his partner had either fallen asleep, which would have put them in danger, or he had been awake through the entire night and now was exhausted, which also put them in danger for now and the future.

The silvery-haired messenger groggily sat up, rubbing his burning eyes and avoiding the small window as he grabbed his blaster from the foot of the bed. The rest of the building was quiet, meaning that at least there weren't any mutants around. The television was still on—the news anchor was talking about some explosion that happened the night before in the Center—and from where he stood in the living room area, Gilbert could hear breathing and movement just outside. Preparing to use his blaster just in case, he crept towards the door, slowly opening it and looking around outside.

"Oh, hey, Gilbert," Mikkel, who was sitting on the ground against the wall, greeted, sounding like he hadn't gotten any sleep in days. He had his armor on, and the little lights on his upgrades that would normally be glowing the symbolic color of one's territory were turned off—a sign that he was in stealth mode. In another case, it could mean that he was dead as well.

"Um," Gilbert started, staring at the dead-looking pile of metal in front of him, "everything okay...?"

Mikkel nodded and groggily stood up as his armor retracted back into his hands and feet and the lights blinked back on. He didn't seem to have any major injuries, at least from what could be seen at the moment. "Hm? Oh, yeah, there was this small group of mutants here earlier, but I kill 'em all." He gestured to the motionless heap of bodies of the large, grotesque monsters a couple dozen feet behind where Gilbert stood. With a loud yawn, he stretched his arms above his head, but quickly stopped mid-yawn and let them drop to his sides, grimacing in pain. He turned his back to the other, too focused on trying not to cry out to say anything.

"Shit..." Gilbert breathed, gaping at the long, open slice spanning across his friend's back. It wasn't bleeding; there didn't seem to be any signs of it ever bleeding at all, despite how large it was. Instead, it seeped a thick lime green liquid that radiated a bit of heat and light. "You let yourself get scratched?! Their poison will kill you!"

"I don't remember getting hit at all... I didn't even know they were poisonous mutants. They seemed normal to me," he replied in a strained voice with another yawn. "I guess I was half asleep... But a little mutant poison won't hurt me! We have a whole closet of first-aid supplies and stuff here. I'll be fine." He stumbled inside like a mildly drunk man and took off his ripped shirt before flopping down onto the couch with his back facing up.

Gilbert rushed to the first-aid closet and dug through the endless supplies before finding a roll of bandages and a shot designed to stop the effects of mutant poisoning, or at the very least slow them depending on the poison's strength. He ran back to Mikkel, who had quickly fallen asleep, and jabbed the needle into his arm. He noticed as he dressed the wound that he remained asleep the entire time. Nudging him awake, Gilbert said, "Alright, you should be okay. Now let's get going. I'll drive the whole five hours, since you really need sleep."

After gathering all of their things and locking up the building, the two messengers hopped into their jeep, with Mikkel stretched across the back seats to rest. Gilbert whistled to himself while he drove to fill the unsettling silence, and he glanced over his shoulder to the back seats every once in a while, just in case. The worst part was that Mikkel looked dead with the way he slept: uncharacteristically silent and unmoving.

About two hours later, they drove past the strong guarded gates of one of the Central territory's three entrances. Gilbert smiled and waved at familiar locals he drove past on the streets of his home as he made his way to a research facility where their delivery would be received. He left Mikkel to continue sleeping while he parked in front of the advanced-looking building and hopped out to grab the metal box and bring it inside. A man at a desk in the busy lobby directed him down a hallway and to an elevator, which he rode up to the top level of the five-story building.

The top level was significantly quieter than the first, with only one or two other people walking in the hallways at any given time. Gilbert found his way to a steel door, which he could hear the sounds of metal clashing together, drilling, and hammering behind. When he knocked, the sounds abruptly halted and heavy footsteps got closer to the door before they stopped. The large door was opened, and an equally large man appeared on the other side, strangely clad in a formal suit with a bulky mask, large gloves, and a metal chest plate. He had no visible upgrades, but seemed so big and strong that he probably didn't need any. Inside, there were metal parts and scraps and wires everywhere in unorganized piles surrounding a couple tables where various tools sat. The man, who obviously didn't have time for conversating, quickly took the box Gilbert held, slammed the door shut, and got back to work.

On the way back, there was a sudden loud crashing sound outside. Gilbert shrugged it off and didn't think much of it until he heard the sounds of panic among numerous people. He rushed to the nearest window and scanned the part of the territory that was within view, and tried to focus his enhanced hearing. Way far off to his right, he could see the west side of the tall wall surrounding the territory—or rather, what was left of it. The thousand-foot wall had several gaping holes in it from which flying mutants were pouring in. These didn't look like average flying mutants. They seemed to be armored and twenty times larger than any other flying mutants would be. The monstrous creatures descended upon the panicking public with bared teeth and claws dripping poison while soldiers and even a few messengers rushed to the scene.

Gilbert stared in horror as a large section of the wall began to give way and crumble with a thunderous rumbling sound, like the sound of boulders tumbling down a hill multiplied by fifty. Civilians still nearby were instantly crushed as a cloud of dust from the falling debris blanketed the surrounding area and spread outwards.

This finally prompted Gilbert to do something, but he couldn't waste time taking the elevator down or running down the stairs. Knowing his upgraded legs would keep him from getting hurt on the ground, Gilbert backed away from the window as far as he could, took a deep breath, and sped towards the window, finally smashing through it and landing on the ground with a thud. He brushed some broken glass off of himself and ignored the bleeding cuts he had gotten from some of them as he ran down the street to the wall as fast as he could.

" _Schieße!_ "

He slid to a halt and turned around after realizing something: Mikkel was still in the car. He flung open the back door and shook Mikkel, who was unbelievably still asleep. "Mikkel! Wake up!"

The blonde groggily sat up with half-lidded eyes. "What? Are we in Central territory yet? I'm still tired!" He rubbed his eyes and stretched, looking around them. His eyes went wide and came to a dead stop when he spotted the fallen wall and the mutants swooping down to take the lives of innocent people, sometimes by lifting them up high into the air and dropping them. Gilbert grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the jeep.

"What the hell happened?!" he asked as they began to run to the devastation. Without waiting for an answer, he covered himself in his armor and kept his eyes looking straight ahead. During his time with Mikkel over the past few months, Gilbert had noticed that he can go from childish and immature to dead serious in seconds when the situation called for it. He wondered if he had always been like that.

By the time they arrived, the mutants had dispersed throughout the territory as more entered over the crumbled part of the wall. About two dozen soldiers and three messengers were there, while more raced down the streets to warn or save civilians. Mutilated bodies littered the area and even detached limbs could be seen here and there, all covered in a thin layer of dust, blood, and bright green mutant poison or blood. The soldiers and messengers shot at the advancing mutants, but their blasts would either hit them with no effect or bounce right back. Sometimes a weak spot would be hit, and the monster would spiral down to the ground, but those were only a few lucky hits.

Gilbert and Mikkel pulled their blasters off of their backs and joined in on the shooting, and the former decided to run elsewhere to help kill mutants who had flown to other parts of the territory. A few blocks over, Gilbert found a large soldier backed up against a building wall shooting at one of the mutants as a little girl hid behind him, clutching his leg as if her life depended on it. She was screaming and crying, and the soldier kept glancing back to her to tell her that everything would be alright. Although he hated soldiers, Gilbert decided to help him out by blasting at the mutant and distracting it. The bloodied soldier took the chance to lift the girl into his arms and carry her to a safer place, and then returned minutes later to resume fighting the mutant, which was still alive and angrier than ever.

The soldier ultimately realized that their efforts were useless. With a deep, strong, and strangely familiar voice, he yelled to Gilbert, "It is no use! Fall back!" He then motioned for the messenger to follow him, shot a couple more failed blasts at the mutant, and started running with great speed. Gilbert sprinted after him, quickly catching up as the mutant started to fly after them. Luckily, they both has upgraded legs that gave them the advantage with speed. The soldier quickly stopped at a military vehicle where the little girl from earlier sat and scooped her up. He led Gilbert through the streets and into the military's Central territory base, where other civilians were pouring in for safety.

He looked at the girl and gave a small smile. "I have to get back to defeating those evil monsters now, so this nice messenger is going to help you find your parents, okay?" he said to her in a friendly, softened tone. She nodded and glanced at Gilbert as the soldier carefully handed her off to him.

Gilbert smiled at her as she waved goodbye to the soldier, who gave a quick wave back and then left. "Now let's go find your parents. What's your name?" After she told him her name, he carried her through the growing crowd shouting for her parents.

Within seconds, a frantic couple appeared in front of him. The girl instantly jumped into the woman's arms and hugged her tightly. The man gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you so much!" he exclaimed. The couple continued to tell him how happy and thankful they were, but were soon cut off by a low droning above. Gilbert ran outside and saw a small plane with the Western territory colors and symbol painted on it. A _plane_. Most people in the territories didn't even know what a plane was. There was only one living person who knew how to— _oh_. Gilbert scowled, knowing exactly who was up there flying that plane.

Several people ran out of the building while others pressed themselves against the windows to watch the plane in awe as it circled around in the air and blasted at the mutants, killing them a lot more easily than those shooting from the ground. After the area was clear, the plane did some loops and tricks in the air. Gilbert rolled his eyes and thought, _Show off_. After the little air show, the plane flew away to kill the remaining mutants around the territory, leaving the people at the military base in amazement and excitement.

A few hours later, Gilbert met with Mikkel back at their jeep outside of the research facility with a letter to deliver to the Center. Everything had finally calmed down, and no more mutants were coming in for the time being. Fortunately, where the wall was destroyed, there was still a fifty-foot section of the lower half left standing, which was enough to keep out most mutants. The rest of Central territory was surprisingly alright structurally for the most part, but a good chunk of the population now lay lifeless in pools of debris and blood. The air smelled like metal and one could hear sounds of distress or despair anywhere they went as the public took in the devastation of their home.

Just as the pair of messengers were getting into their vehicle, the soldier from earlier ran past, backtracked, and stopped next to the driver's side. "You," he said to Gilbert. "I noticed before that you seem familiar. Do I know you?"

From this close, Gilbert certainly knew who this was under all of that dust, dirt, and red and green blood. He cleared his throat and quickly answered, "Nope! You must be thinking of someone else. It's been nice meeting you, though. Bye!" He got in the jeep and slammed the door shut, avoiding any further eye contact and frowning a bit. The soldier sighed and left.

"What's wrong?" Mikkel, who was now sitting in the front passenger's seat without his armor, curiously asked.

"Nothing..." He started the car as he debated on whether or not he should just change the subject. "That was my brother. He hasn't been able to fully recognize me since last year. I don't know what happened to him."

"He's your brother?! You're related to Captain Ludwig Beilschmidt?!" Mikkel blurted out, getting excited.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow while he started the car. "Uh, yeah. You haven't realized that? I mean, I know he isn't as awesome as me, but we have the same last name."

"Oh, right! I guess I never really connected the dots there, haha," said the other with a chuckle and a shrug. "And, I know what happened to him. They wipe certain personal memories of higher-ranked soldiers so they don't have to worry about friends and family while focusing on work. Don't take it personally when he acts like he doesn't know you. He can't really control that. There is a way to trigger his memories, but I don't know what it is. I'm not supposed to tell anyone any of that, anyway, but that doesn't matter anymore."

"I see..." Gilbert replied, still frowning. "Alright, let's go!" The jeep drove off, only to be stopped again at the eastern exit by a soldier. Not just any soldier. It was _her_.

She leaned on the jeep on Mikkel's side, grinning at him through the open window. "Hey, Mikkel! I haven't seen you in a while! What's up, dude? Did you see me out there flying around? It was so cool!"

"Yeah! That was amazing!" Mikkel exclaimed, smiling back at her with his eyes lit up. He looked back at Gilbert. "Amelia, this is my new messenger partner, Gilbert Beilschmidt." Gilbert turned to face them, but made no attempt to give a friendly greeting or even a smile.

"Beilschmidt? Oh my god, are you related to Ludwig? No wonder you look so familiar! I can totally see the resemblance! Wait, are you his brother?" Her grin disappeared. "Dude, it must be hard having a bro who doesn't know who you are. I'd never want my sister or friends to forget me, and vice versa."

 _Funny, you didn't seem to have a problem when you killed—_

"Wait, wait, I know who you are!" Amelia's grin returned, and she was practically jumping through the window by now. "You're one of the top messengers! Along with Francis and Antonio, right? Hey, I actually know Francis! How is he? I haven't talked to him in so long! He used to tell me about the stuff he did out in the wilderness and stuff. He talked about you and Antonio a lot!" She dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in more. "He even used to talk to me about freedom from the King. I wonder if he would've joined that rebellion that kinda died down a while ago."

Gilbert just sat there, staring at her in confusion. Either this was some kind of horrible, sick joke, or she really didn't know. He shot a look at Mikkel, who looked extremely uncomfortable sitting in the middle of this. He directed his eyes back at Amelia, who also now wore a confused expression. "You don't know, do you?" he finally asked her. She shook her head slowly. "He... He's dead. They both are."

"Huh?" Horror mixed with the soldier's confusion. "He's dead? No, no, no, he can't be. You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding." Her voice quivered a bit by the end of her sentence.

"...I'm not kidding, sorry." He was caught off guard by this reaction, since his last memory of this girl before today was her shooting the very person they were talking about in the head. "They've been dead for months." _And you were the one who killed them._

Her hand flew to her mouth and she shook her head. "No way... Oh god, I never got to say goodbye or anything! I'm losing everyone! First the Center Emergency Hospital tells me that my sister was never there when I know for a fact I brought her there weeks ago, and now this!" She put her head in her hands and groaned in frustration, anger, and agony. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Still in shock at her behavior, Gilbert exhaled. "A couple soldiers came one night to kill them... They actually were part of the rebellion. I... I never knew that they were until that night. They didn't ever tell me." His grip on the steering wheel tightened and his knuckles turned whiter than they already were.

"Are you serious?" She banged her normal fist on the side of the jeep and her face twisted into a grimace. "This sucks! The King is so—" She widened her eyes and cut herself off before finishing, and looked around. "The King is so...great and...noble. Hey, are you guys going back to the Center? I need a ride. They're keeping my plane here for minor repairs."

Mikkel gave Gilbert a pleading look. The latter sighed heavily and grumbled, "Fine." Amelia thanked him and got in the back seat before they started driving again, passing the gates and entering the dark wilderness between Central territory and the Center.

Approximately two hours later, the trio reached the rest area at the midpoint between the two territories and decided to stop there for the night. Inside, they sat in the kitchen and ate sandwiches for dinner. Gilbert didn't like the idea of being in the same room as the person who killed his best friends, but actually seemed like he was warming up to her. He figured that Mikkel was right about her. The one thing that he still wasn't clear on was why she didn't remember that one night.

Amelia sat up on a table, telling the messengers about life as a soldier. Apparently, a lot had changed since Mikkel was one not too long ago, because he seemed almost as surprised as Gilbert at everything she said. "—and they also do this thing where every time there's a new mission, they send info to our brains that determines how... How do I put this? How emotional we're allowed to be, I guess. Like today, since we were saving people, we were allowed to be compassionate and sympathetic or whatever, but if we were going to kill or capture some criminal, they block those things in our minds. It's...efficient." She frowned in disgust. "I don't like it. It's horrible and evil and inhumane and I'm glad they don't monitor what we say because I'd totally be dead by now!" She took a deep breath and resumed eating her sandwich in anger.

Gilbert was more or less amazed. It was almost like she really did hate the King and his system. Did he actually feel bad for her? Maybe he did. He didn't even know. But he realized that maybe he could actually get along with this person.

"Another thing they do," she continued after finishing the sandwich, "is—and Mikkel, you probably remember this one—erase parts of our memory regularly so we don't remember killing people or doing terrible things and live with the guilt. Again, it's efficient. They get things they want done as quickly as possible. It's stupid, but it works in their favor. I just have all these blank spots in my memory and I'm really not comfortable with it." She shook her head and jumped down from the table to make another sandwich.

Gilbert looked at Mikkel, then at Amelia, then at the floor. Was that really true? Could that be why she didn't remember killing Francis and Antonio? Did this mean that Mikkel had killed people and also didn't remember? How many? Questions that would never be answered swirled around in Gilbert's mind as he tried to process everything Amelia had told them about.

"We should ask her," Mikkel whispered to Gilbert, pulling him from his thoughts. "You know, about the whole," he dropped his voice to an even lower volume, "rebellion thing. This is probably our best chance. I'll do it if you want me to." Gilbert gave him a reluctant nod.

"Hey, Amelia!" Mikkel said, walking up beside her as she put her sandwich together. "What do you think of the King? We won't tell anyone, we promise." He put his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands as he looked at her, waiting for an answer.

She hesitated, unsure of what she should say and if she could trust Gilbert, who didn't seem to like her that much. "I... I don't like him. He's responsible for the deaths of innocent people who just wanna change our society for the better. And now because of his bullshit system, my sister is missing and one of my friends is dead! That dude is made up of evil and lies! I wish I could do something about this, but the rebellion is dead and the government pretty much controls me."

"Amelia." Gilbert stood and joined them at the counter with a smirk. "The rebellion isn't dead."


	5. Old Friends

**This chapter isn't my best... But hey, I'm gonna upload it anyway!**

 **I think it will become very obvious that I wrote this in one day while being sick and did not make any efforts to edit or read it through. Maybe I'll fix it eventually.**

 **On another note, my portrayal of Nyo!Hungary in this is absolutely horrible. I have no idea what I'm doing with this character, but I already made him a Nyotalia character in my pages upon pages of notes, so I will not bother changing that. If the extremely bad depiction of a very minor character makes you upset, I don't know what to tell you. Deal with it, I guess.**

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Early sunlight bathed the remnants of the Central territory as those who were stable enough physically and mentally helped local soldiers who had stayed behind clean up, rebuild, and tend to people in need. A little bakery, which had miraculously avoided being damaged, was filled with wounded citizens who didn't think they could make it to the hospital on the other side of the territory. These people knew of a teenage girl who worked in this bakery who was quite skilled in the medical field and would certainly help them out for free. While the girl helped person after person, the bakery's owner, a woman just about eight years older than her, kept up with orders from the waiting patients, happy to be getting so much business and not being bothered by the extra work at all.

The sweet-looking girl adjusted her hair ribbon before getting back to stitching up a woman's arm, which was badly injured by falling debris. Soon she threw the used needle away and wrapped bandages around the arm. She then slipped it into a sling before giving the woman a smile. "You are welcome to come back anytime, Miss. Feel free to buy some baked goods on your way out. The line may be slightly longer than usual, but I can assure you that it's worth it!"

The woman nodded and stood with a grateful smile. "Thank you! You've saved me a lot of money Are you sure you don't want me to pay?"

"No, no. We get enough money from our bakery sales," she replied, shaking her head. "All of my medical equipment is donated by military medics when they have a surplus of supplies. Having a brother in the military does come with advantages."

"Wow. Hey, you seem like you know what you're doing for someone so young. How old are you?" the woman asked curiously.

"Sixteen, Miss," said the girl politely. "My brother has taught me everything I know about medicine and first aid. Actually, he's taught me a lot about many things. I learn a lot from him." She smiled fondly as she spoke of her brother, who was currently back in Central territory to help during the aftermath of the mutant attack.

The woman nodded again. "Well, you definitely have a bright future ahead of you if you keep this up. Maybe you can work in the Center someday!" With that, the woman said goodbye and headed to the front counter of the bakery to order some cupcakes.

By the afternoon, the bakery was no longer filled with the wounded, and the teenage girl who had been aiding everyone was finally back behind the counter with her boss. She had been working hard nonstop since the previous day, but refused to take a break lasting any longer than twenty minutes. The young girl stood patiently behind the front counter of the bakery, smiling as she waited for an older couple to choose what they wanted to buy.

"Would either of you like to sample our chocolate cheesecake?" she offered as they stared at the goods behind the glass. She held out a platter filled with cubes of cheesecake each in their own little paper cup, and the couple both happily took one. After finishing the samples, the couple finally decided to order two slices of chocolate cheesecake, then sat out on the front patio of the bakery to eat.

"Elise," said the girl's boss as she popped up from behind the glass display cases, where she had just removed a plate of chocolate chip cookies, "you can go home early if you want. I think I might close early, anyway. Most people are more concerned about the state of our territory than buying cupcakes and cookies. Besides, we've had more than enough sales for today already. Here, you can take these cookies home for you and your brother. It's on me," She held out the plate and grinned at her employee and friend.

The girl, Elise, stared at the cookies for a moment, then took the plate. "Thank you. Have a good day, Emma. I'll see you first thing tomorrow." She began to head towards the door.

"Oh, please, you can come in later," Emma, her boss, insisted. "You've worked hard enough. You may even take the day off if you'd like. I was thinking of keeping this place closed for a day so I could spend the time searching for my brother. I still haven't heard from him in over a year..." Her eyes cast down for a moment before she looked back over to Elise, her kind smile returning.

"I'm sure he's alright, Emma. You'll find him, I promise," Elise reassured. "And I suppose I could take a day off. Maybe I could help my brother out around the territory!" She put her hand on the door. "Anyway, I'll see you in a couple days! Good luck with finding your brother! Goodbye!"

"Bye, Elise! Have a nice day off!" Emma waved to her as she stepped outside.

At home, Elise set the plate of cookies down on the kitchen counter and covered them in plastic wrap. She decided she could help her brother tomorrow, so what should she do now? Sitting around doing nothing certainly wasn't ideal. After giving it some thought, she remembered a place where she liked to go often before she started spending her free time working at the bakery. Before she knew it, Elise found herself entering a musical instrument store owned by a former friend of her brother. This end of the territory had been left untouched by the mutants who had attacked yesterday, most likely thanks to that soldier from Western territory in that big flying vehicle—what was it called? A plane? Yes, yes, a plane. Elise's brother had told her about planes before.

When the bell above the entrance rang as Elise opened it, the woman sitting at a grand piano in the middle of the store looked up, but didn't dare to stop playing the soft, beautiful melody she was creating. "Oh, Elise, hello. I haven't seen you in a while. How are you?" the prim woman greeted.

"I'm good, thank you. And you, Miss Sophie?" said Elise. She let the door swing closed behind her, and walked up beside her.

"I'm good as well. I've told you before that you don't need to call me 'Miss', you know. We are friends, aren't we?" Sophie stopped playing and stood from her seat, smoothing out her lilac dress with her mechanical hands. She caught a glimpse of the upgrades of the younger girl's forearms. "You finally got some upgrades. When was that?"

Elise looked down at her arms. "About six months ago, I think. They're heat-resistant." She glanced around the store, which was quiet and empty, especially now that the piano playing had stopped. "Is Daniel around?"

Sophie smiled at the mention of his name, and motioned for Elise to follow her. "He's actually decided to take a break from...you know." She looked around and then took Elise down to a different section of the store, one where only five people have been allowed. Elise was one of them. "He'll be glad to see you again, I'm sure—Daniel, we have a guest!" At the bottom of the stairs was a large room with couches, a television, several monitors connected to a camera outside of the store as well as other cameras positioned in various places amongst the different territories, and a table with a large map spread across. A young man with long brown hair tied back into a ponytail with a flower in it sat on one of the couches, watching a particularly dirty movie.

"Is that Elise?" He fumbled around with the remote before switching the TV off, and then jumped to his feet. "I haven't seen you in forever! What made you decide to stop by? Wait a minute, don't tell me. You finally want to start up a rebellion with us again! See, Sophie, I told you she'd give in eventually!" He threw an arm around Sophie, who rolled her eyes.

"You were watching _that_ movie again, weren't you?" Sophie asked him, glancing back at the television.

Daniel shrugged. "What can I say, it's a great movie, and I needed my daily dose of yuri," he stated.

"Yuri?" Elise looked from Sophie to Daniel, confused.

"Just some stupid term from a couple hundred years ago," said Sophie quickly. "It doesn't matter. Anyway, back to our original topic. So, why _are_ you here, Elise?"

Elise took a seat in a chair at the table. "I just wanted to say hello. Like you said, I haven't seen you in a while. But I guess you could say I wanted to talk about the...rebellion, too." She almost was afraid to say that word, as she hadn't even thought about it in a year. The three of them along with some others had tried to form their own group of rebels after hearing about another larger one. However, when the larger one started to have its members picked off one by one, they had decided to stop what they were doing, just to be safe.

Daniel sat at the monitors and gestured for Sophie and Elise to pull up chairs beside him. "I've been meaning to tell you this earlier, Sophie, but it's better that Elise is here to hear it, too. I was out in the wilderness, and I got a camera set up in a rest stop between Central territory and the Center." He pointed to a monitor, which displayed the outside of the building he mentioned. "It doesn't show much, but the audio can actually pick up some stuff going on inside."

"You were out in the wilderness and you didn't tell me?! You could have gotten killed!" Sophie yelled, staring at the screen in shock.

"But I wasn't killed," he pointed out with a smirk, twirling a lock of his hair around a finger. "As I was saying, I was listening to the audio last night, and I heard three people talking, a girl and two guys. The girl was telling the guys about all these things they do to soldiers and other stuff like that. But what was really interesting was that they eventually started talking about a rebellion. A _rebellion_. That's not all. Sophie, remember Gilbert?"

The brunette scowled. "You mean the idiot who used to steal all of my cake and sit on my piano? Unfortunately, yes, I remember him." She didn't even think about acknowledging the fact that Daniel may or may not have had a thing going on with that arrogant jerk when they were younger.

"I think he was there. No one else has a voice or laugh as obnoxious and loud as his." Daniel played back a short clip of the conversation from last night.

Elise listened carefully, and sure enough, she heard three voices discussing a rebellion. One of them, Gilbert, she guessed, judging by the way his voice sounded, even said something about him being the leader of a group of rebels, and went on and on about how much he hated the government until Daniel stopped the feed.

"That certainly is Gilbert..." Sophie mumbled. "I should be happy that there are still some rebels alive, but I honestly can't get past the fact that _he_ has led one of the greatest rebellion attempts in recent history. We're not going to ask him to help us, are we?" She looked at Daniel, who had started playing with her hair.

"No way. I don't think I can deal with that asshole for five minutes. It's nice knowing there are other rebels still out there, though," Daniel admitted. "Speaking of other rebels, the rest stop isn't the only place I've planted a camera at recently. I put some more in the other territories, and even the Center. That's why I've been gone for a month. I've gathered some information about certain people around the territories, and believe me, there are way more people who would at least support a rebellion than you would think."

"Care to elaborate?" Sophie asked, now intrigued as she forgot about Gilbert.

Daniel smirked. "I don't know, Sophie. That may cost you." She sighed and held back a smile as she gave him a quick peck on the lips, earning a quiet giggle from Elise. "Thank you. Now get comfortable. This might take a while..."

Back at the bakery that night, Emma wiped down the tables and countertop after closing. Outside, people were still cleaning up and searching for missing loved ones. It was almost curfew, but there were soldiers who seemed to be out supervising them closely. She figured that the Central territory leaders would allow this for once as long as there were authorities keeping everyone in check.

There was a sharp knock at the glass door, and Emma looked up to see an old friend. He crossed his arms impatiently while he waited behind the glass for her to let him in. She saw the dim moonlight reflect off of something in his belt—a gun. "Long time no see, hmm, Lovino?" she said with a snicker as she opened the door for him. "You might want to cover up a little better." He looked down at his belt and quickly pulled his jacket down over it. She chuckled and sat down at a table. "How did you get here?"

"You know me. I have certain guys with certain skills at my disposal," he responded, nodding to a large man not too far away outside for emphasis. The man nodded back and walked away. Lovino grabbed a churro from a plate sitting on the countertop next to other leftover goods and sat across from Emma with it. He took a bite. "Antonio taught you how to make these, didn't he?" She nodded with a weak smile. He looked at the churro sadly and took another bite, savoring the taste along with the memories he missed so much.

After some uncomfortable silence, Emma straightened up in her seat. "So... Why are you here?"

Lovino cleared his throat and finished the churro. "Right, right. I have two things to tell you, actually. Would you like the good news or the bad news first?"

"...Bad."

He nodded and leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. His eyes darted left where the window was for a split second before he spoke. "They're coming for you. They're going to take you to the Center. I don't know what will happen to you, but I can imagine it won't be good." He studied her face, which was practically begging for him to tell her the good news already. "The good news is that I know where your brother is. But...it sort of ties in with the bad news. If you want to see him, you'll have to let the government take you. They want to use you to get to him. On another note, I can protect you, but it comes with the risk of losing his location again."

Emma shook her head and grasped his hands tightly. "There... There has to be another option. You can't just take me to him and protect us both?"

"That is far too risky. Believe it or not, you would have a better chance at survival if you let them take you. I lost three men just trying to locate him. I don't know how he can survive out there alone." He rubbed his thumbs over her hands and gave her a sympathetic look. "I know you won't choose this, but please, just come with me. I want you to be safe. I already lost Antonio, and I don't want to lose you as well."

She slowly pulled her hands away and gazed into his pleading eyes. She remembered the night he had a messenger bring him over to Central territory just so he could see her after he first learned about Antonio's passing. He hadn't cried, or at least he wouldn't let her see him cry, but he certainly had been completely crushed. And who did he trust with his emotions? Her. Not his brother or grandfather. Her.

"I'm sorry, Lovino, but I'll take any chance I get to see my brother. If he's as skilled of a survivor as you make him out to be, I'm sure he can deal with whatever the government has planned. I'll be alright, okay? And if something does happen to me...don't go blaming yourself like you did with Antonio. Nothing is your fault." She frowned when he glared at the floor, obviously upset with that answer. He seemed more upset with himself than with her, however.

"I understand. Well, that is all for now. I hope to see you soon. Goodbye, Emma." He stood, emotionless, and planted a gentle kiss on the top of one of her hands before leaving without another word.

Lovino met with two of his men and discreetly made his way towards the eastern gate of the territory where he came from. He was beyond disappointed with how his talk with Emma went, but knew that he could still try to find other ways to keep her safe. Too caught up in trying to redirect his thoughts, he never noticed the silent figure swiftly following him from within the night shadows.

The figure followed him until they reached the gate. In a slightly distorted voice, like one you would hear from some kind of robot, the figure spoke into a communication device. "Android Two reporting. Target A is approaching the wilderness. Should I continue following him?"

"Do not let him leave your sights," commanded a deep voice on the other end.

'Android Two' did as they were told, focusing in on Lovino as they ventured out into the wilderness. "Do I initiate capture of Target A?" they asked.

"Hmm... No, let's have some fun first."


	6. Up to Something

**Warning: Crappy, short filler chapter with an equally crappy ending ahead. Like, possibly worse than last chapter. The next one will be way better and more relevant, I promise.**

 **Also, I added a couple references to the American Revolutionary War. More specifically, references to the Sons of Liberty and the Patriots. They won't be too hard to find.**

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The trio arrived in the Center late that afternoon. The previous night, Gilbert had finally given in and told Amelia all about his rebellion and what had happened to it, excluding no detail other than the fact that it was her who had killed his best friends. Amelia, of course, gave mixed reactions, but for the most part, seemed to have been overjoyed that there was still a chance at a rebellion. However, naturally, she was reluctant to join the two messengers in their quest for freedom from the government, but Mikkel was able to coax her into it. Though the idea of now having two soldiers in his rebellion made him just the slightest bit uncomfortable, Gilbert was happy that he was finally beginning to restore his cause.

"Alright, dudes, I think we need a cool name for this whole thing!" Amelia announced as they drove through the streets of the Center. "I was thinking something along the lines of 'Children of Justice' or... 'Nationalists' or maybe... 'the Freedom Militia'. What do you guys think?"

Gilbert turned around to face her from the passenger's seat. "The Freedom Militia sounds pretty awesome! Badass, too. Mikkel?"

"I like that one, too!" the other messenger agreed, his eyes still fixed on the road. "Oh, and Amelia, where are we headed again?"

She leaned forward and stared at the street they were on. "The Center Emergency Hospital. You know where it is."

Mikkel nodded and turned at the next street on the right, eventually pulling into the parking lot of the hospital and stopping near the entrance to let Amelia out. She hopped out of the jeep and began to head inside, but paused and turned back to them. "Actually, can you guys come inside with me?"

"Sure thing, Amelia!" Mikkel exclaimed before Gilbert could have a say in the decision. He brought the jeep further into the lot and parked it before stepping out and joining Amelia by the door with Gilbert. "Why are we here, anyway?"

Amelia led them inside and walked straight up to the front desk without even acknowledging Mikkel's question. The woman sitting behind the desk chatting with a nurse looked up and immediately frowned when her eyes met Amelia's. She cleared her throat and whispered something to the nurse, who nodded and left. "Miss Jones," said the woman, "your sister is not—"

"Listen, lady," Amelia cut in as she leaned on the desk and narrowed her eyes, "she has to be here, and if she isn't, then I know that you know where she is. But we can deal with that another day. I'm just here to visit a friend."

The woman cleared her throat and sat back in her seat with a sigh, directing her eyes to the computer screen and getting ready to type a name. "Alright, Miss Jones. Name?"

"Oh, um," Amelia straightened her posture and shot a glance back at Gilbert and Mikkel, "he's actually their friend. They know what room he's in, so we'll just be on our way." She turned and began walking down a hallway, motioning to her companions to follow her. With a particularly fast pace, Amelia led them through the hospital, actually seeming to have a sense of where she was going.

"Uh...Amelia?" Mikkel appeared beside her and tapped her shoulder. "What are we doing?" he asked her. Gilbert was clearly wondering the same thing as he looked around curiously. He watched as Amelia pressed on, focused and determined as she ignored Mikkel's question. Eventually, she stopped at a door on the second floor in a quiet, almost abandoned wing of the hospital. She looked both ways down the hall before opening the door and walking inside.

She spun around and beckoned the others to come inside. Once they did, she stepped closer to them, lowering her voice. "This was my sister's room. Last time I snuck in here was a week ago, and she wasn't here, but it still seemed like she was staying in here. I don't know anyone else who would request gourmet pancakes and maple syrup brought in from the Western territory. Anyway, they caught me in here and threw me out, and there's no doubt they're hiding something judging by the way they were acting. So what I wanna do is look for clues and stuff. One of you should keep watch while the other helps me look around."

"I'll help you," Gilbert volunteered. Mikkel gaped at him in surprise, and he just smirked at him. "What? Is there a problem, Mikkel? Don't think the awesome me can handle this?"

Mikkel looked from Gilbert to Amelia, who had already begun searching the room, then back to Gilbert. He grinned and said, "Oh, I get what's going on."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing," the blonde muttered, adding in a smug grin. "Well, I should start keeping watch. Have fun." He chuckled and went to stand by the door.

Gilbert shrugged off his partner's comment and began to look around and observe the room. The sheets on the bed were disheveled, and the television remote sat on top of them to one side of the bed. The room smelled like someone had been making breakfast despite the fact that it was late afternoon and hospital food was never good enough to smell this great. Upon close inspection of one of the pillows on the bed, Gilbert found a long, wavy golden strand of hair.

On her side of the room, Amelia noted a vase of red roses that she had brought two visits ago, and left with a receptionist when she was inevitably told again that her sister was not here. Along with the roses were some other things visitors had brought, such as a stuffed polar bear and more flowers. In a trash can near the bed was a paper plate with what seemed to be syrup left on it along with a plastic fork and cup.

After just minutes of looking around, Amelia reported to Gilbert, still keeping her voice low. "Okay, so she's obviously been here, and no other patients have been put in this room." She sighed and scanned the room again. "But where the hell could she be right now? They should've given her any emergency upgrades by now..."

"And why would they lie to you about her not being here?" Gilbert added brows furrowing in confusion and frustration. They both realized that something was definitely going on now. They had to do something, but what could they do from here? There was absolutely no indication of what they should do or where they should go to investigate further.

"Guys," Mikkel whispered, closing the door behind him quietly, "someone's coming down the hall. There's no way we can make it out of here without them seeing."

"Okay, um..." Gilbert exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "They can't be coming in here, right? Just get low by the door and wait for them to pass by and leave this hallway." He sat up against the wall to the right of the door, and Mikkel and Amelia followed his example. Light footsteps grew louder and louder, and then stopped somewhere near the outside of the door. The three inside held their breath and let out relieved sighs when the footsteps finally disappeared into a room across the hallway.

Once he was sure the person was gone, Gilbert stood up and put his hand on the door handle. "Let's get the hell out before someone realizes we've been in here." The others nodded and followed him out carefully. Now they just had to get out of that wing without being seen.

"Wait!" Mikkel, who had been trailing behind the other two, had suddenly stopped and was staring through a slightly open door.

"What?" Gilbert asked, turning his head to look at him. He snickered. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Come on, we have to get out of this section of the hospital before someone finds us."

Mikkel shook his head slowly and continued staring into the room. "H-He's supposed to be dead!" He was completely frozen in place, and his face displayed an expression of anguish.

Gilbert and Amelia exchanged confused and concerned looks. "Who?" Amelia questioned as she walked up beside him. Just as she peered into the room, the curtain in front of the bed closest to the door was closed and a man walked out.

The man closed the door behind him and glared at the three intruders. "Amelia, what are you doing here? Who are they?" he inquired. They were more like demands than questions, however. He crossed his arms and lightly tapped his foot as he awaited an answer.

The soldier cleared her throat. "Oh, hey, Arthur. I was just visiting someone," she said surely. She nudged Mikkel softly with an elbow. "These are a couple of messengers I met up with yesterday at Central territory after the mutant breach. I actually knew Mikkel here when he was in the military. Anyways, since they're keeping my plane over there, these guys agreed to bring me here to the Center."

Arthur nodded and narrowed his eyes at the messengers. "And these men have come into the hospital with you because...?"

"Oh, well, you see, the person we're visiting is actually their friend, and I just tagged along because I've got nothing better to do and I wanted to catch up a little with Mikkel here." She gave Mikkel, who still seemed to be in a bit of shock after seeing whoever or whatever he saw, a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Ah, I see," the formal-suited man said with another nod. He continued to study the faces of the other two strangers closely. "Well, Amelia, that's funny, because there should be absolutely no reason for you to be in this wing of the hospital. There are no patients here, and I know that you would not get lost in this building on your way to any other section, especially if a receptionist had told you all where to go. I do hope that you are not up to something. So, I will repeat my question, and you will answer truthfully. What are you doing here?"

"Hold on," Mikkel interrupted, finally escaping his inner thoughts, "I just saw someone in that room you came out of. And if no one's here, then what are _you_ doing here?"

"That is not of your concern, Mr...?"

"Densen."

"That is not of your concern, Mr. Densen. It is my business and mine alone. Now if you will please excuse me, I have somewhere important to be right now. Goodbye, Amelia." Seeming to have forgotten their initial subject, Arthur quickly made his way down the hallway, appearing to be in a hurry, and soon was completely gone.

After Arthur had disappeared, the trio continued down the opposite way, glad that they had gotten themselves out of that situation so easily. No one dared to speak or get distracted again until they finally made it back to the first floor and were headed out the main exit.

"Who was that guy and why was he such an un-awesome ass?" Gilbert asked Amelia as they made their way back to the jeep.

"My best friend. He's not usually like that. He's a completely different person when he's working than when he isn't," she explained, frowning. "I don't even know what he does. He never tells me. I just know that he's really close to the King and he probably knows stuff about the government that none of us would even think of."

"Oh, so if we were to hypothetically kidnap him and torture him for info—"

"Don't even think about it. We'd never get away with something like that if it's just the three of us," she stated, smiling a little at the outrageous idea. "Nice try, though. I don't think I could bring myself to torture him, anyway." She then directed her attention to Mikkel, who was sat at the wheel. He started the car and began driving, but hadn't spoken yet. "Hey, Mikkel, you alright?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine!" he replied after some silence, giving a weak grin. He didn't bother to say anything else, not even an explanation for what had happened back at the hospital.

"Where to now, Amelia?" Gilbert asked while Mikkel waited for an ambulance to clear the way for him to drive out of the parking lot.

"Center HQ. I was told to report back there after finishing up in Central territory," she said, staring down at the small screen on her arm upgrade. She looked through the available missions, trying to find one that required the least emotional restriction. If she was going to be part of this rebellion now, she had to make sure that she was being controlled as little as possible while still doing her job in order to keep out of the eyes of suspicion.

Gilbert didn't look too happy to hear that. Although he was finally beginning to accept her trustworthiness, he was still a bit unsure of her. He had to be extremely careful of who he chose to give his trust to if he didn't want to end up like all of the other previous defeated rebels. "Alright," he said. "What about the, uh...you know? Should we arrange a meeting place?"

"Oh, right." Amelia looked down at her feet and thought for a moment, then back up at Gilbert. "Let's meet Saturday near the Southern territory HQ. That's my day off, and the Southern territory usually has the least soldiers patrolling it. Does 9:00 PM sound alright?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yup, got it!" He faced forward in his seat as Mikkel stopped the jeep in front of the HQ and Amelia got out. "See you in a couple days!"

Mikkel leaned over Gilbert and said, "Bye, Amelia."

She waved to them and smiled. "Bye, guys! I'll see you on Saturday!"

After she was gone, Mikkel started to drive away towards the nearest wall gate. "So, should we spend the rest of the day here or find some work to do? Hey, maybe we could go back to Central territory and help with rebuilding and—"

"Are you alright?" Gilbert suddenly asked.

"Huh?"

"You heard me. Are you alright?" he repeated, casting a serious look at the other. "Don't act like nothing's wrong. My awesome senses can detect when there's a problem. You haven't been acting like yourself. You've been all quiet and you don't have as much energy as you normally do. Is it the mutant poison? And what happened back at the hospital."

Mikkel frowned and tightened his grip on the wheel. He tried not to make any eye contact. "I'm fine, I promise! Like I said, a little mutant poison won't kill me! And you gave me the shot, right? So I should be alright! I'm fine!" He took a deep breath. "And back at the hospital... It was nothing. I thought I saw someone, but obviously I was just imagining things. I've had a long week, I guess. I probably just need more sleep."

Gilbert decided against questioning him further and tried to discard the fact that Mikkel had spent more than enough hours sleeping, and seemed completely fine before yesterday. "If you say so. Let's just stay here for the rest of the day. You need more sleep anyway, right? It's probably best if you catch up on sleep on an actual bed rather than a bumpy car ride."

"Yeah, you're right."

The duo checked into a hotel minutes later and then headed to a fast food place for dinner. They were completely unaware of the stealthy figure that followed them closely from within the shadows.


	7. Section X

**I didn't read this over at all, so there are probably some errors. Just a warning.**

* * *

Later that night, Lovino sat in the back of a dark car with tinted windows, staring down at the floor of the vehicle as the car approached the southeastern Center wall gates. This was the only entrance to the restricted section of the Center—a whole different walled off area called the 'Royal Center' where the King's castle, the grand library, and other extremely important or top-secret buildings were located. Only those with special clearance could enter, including elite or political figures, royalty, messengers with certain deliveries to make, and highly-ranked soldiers. Lovino, being the grandson of a well-known decorated veteran, was allowed into this part of the Center.

"Should any of us go in with you, boss?" asked the uniformed man who sat in the passenger's seat of the car.

Lovino shook his head. "No, I just want to be alone. My stupid brother and grandfather are too annoying to give me some peace and quiet at home." He crossed his arms and sat back in his seat, lifting his head to look out the window as they surpassed the tall gates and the soldiers who guarded them.

He couldn't wait to get into the quiet grand library and just relax alone. Too much had been hitting him at once. He thought he had finally been able to cope with the loss of Antonio, but learning that he could lose Emma as well brought back unwanted memories. Now he might soon be bearing the weight of two losses. That on top of dealing with stupid rich snobs or ignorant leading figures every single day while attempting to keep track of hundreds of henchmen all around the territories was quite a lot for just one young man.

Oh, and being a wanted 'criminal' slated for an inevitable execution didn't really help, either. At least authorities had no idea that this criminal was really him. Then again, the person actually being widely accused was his grandfather, which wasn't any better.

Before he knew it, the car was stopping right in front of the gates to the Royal Center. Without a word, Lovino stepped out, making sure his emergency pistol was covered by his jacket, and walked up to the gates. He pulled out an identification card and showed it to the guard, who gave him an approving nod before the gates were opened, and then closed behind him.

The Royal Center, as usual, was nearly empty. The only indication of the presence of other people were the few lights glowing from windows in certain buildings, and the smell of burning fireplaces coming from some houses. Lovino had heard that this time of the year hadn't always been this cold. His grandfather had explained it to him and his brother many times, but he never really listened. It had something to do with radiation, temperature inversion (whatever that was), and brighter clouds caused by pollution reflecting the sun away. He really didn't care about all of this science stuff. As long as he was alive and out of prison, he didn't give two shits about what the hell happened to the climate.

With his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, Lovino strolled down the street and walked up the stone steps of the grand library, which fortunately was open 24/7. He had often wondered why it was always available for people to browse. Even during the day next to no one actually went there, so what was the point in leaving it open?

He pushed open one of the large front doors and walked inside, his footsteps echoing off of the marble floors and tall walls inside. There weren't really any specific reasons for Lovino being there other than the opportunity of getting some quiet time alone to clear his head. He even had the communicator in his ear switched off to avoid any interruptions from his henchmen. If something important or problematic were to happen, they could surely deal with it alone for one night.

Lovino wandered around the grand library for a while, listening to his mechanical feet click on the smooth floor and enjoying the tranquility he so rarely experienced. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the library other than a couple of night guards who didn't even bother to take one glance at him. Lovino actually felt a bit sorry for these guys; they had to spend their nights patrolling a great, big empty library where nothing ever happened. Certainly working such an uneventful, repetitive job night after night would get tiring and the people stuck with said job would have their guards down, thus leaving them vulnerable to missing anything out of the ordinary.

As meandering around the enormous building grew boring, Lovino decided it was time to have some fun. Not too long ago, one of his men had told him about a locked door hidden somewhere on the bottom level of the library that he had found while gathering information on one of their next targets. Strangely enough, the library staff claimed to know nothing of this door's existence or what was behind it. He had even stolen keys from one of the night guards, but none of them worked on the door. He had then reported to Lovino, who he thought could possibly solve this mystery.

According to the henchman, the door was near the territory history section of the library. It didn't take Lovino very long to realize that the door was concealed behind one of the tall bookcases. _Visible hinges,_ Lovino thought with a satisfied smirk as he observed the lower half of the bookcase, which seemed to be completely separate from the rest of it with what looked like door hinges on one side. _How stupid could these people be?_ After ensuring that neither of the night guards were around, he slowly and carefully tugged at the bookcase, which swung out from its position, revealing the plain metal door behind it.

"What the hell?" Lovino grumbled aloud as he looked at the door. Instead of a lock that required a key to open like the henchman had described, there was a keypad and a little screen attached to the door. Letting out a quiet, frustrated grunt, Lovino pulled a handkerchief from one of his jacket pockets to keep himself from leaving fingerprints and got ready to punch in the first code that came to mind. He leaned closer to the keypad, searching for possible smudges on the keys that would tell him which ones had been previously pushed.

All keys except 0, 1, 5, and 9 had been pushed multiple times, and 3 seemed to be the one to have had been pushed the most. Even the space button had been pushed, which brought Lovino to the conclusion that the numbers were based on corresponding letters that would normally show up on a keypad but were absent here. He tried to work it out in his mind: 1 normally would have no letters; 2 had A, B, and C; 3 had D, E, and F; 4 had G, H, and I; 5 had J, K, and L; 6 had M, N, and O; 7 had P, Q, R, and S; 8 had T, U, and V; 9 had W, X, Y, and Z; and 0 also had no letters. So, the passcode had no letters corresponding with 5 or 9, eliminating seven possible letters. There were at least two separate words, though it was most likely to be no more than three since passcodes usually weren't very long. That still barely narrowed this down, plus, there was no indication of exactly how long the passcode was.

Lovino stood there, irritated and perplexed, yet determined to see what was so important that it needed to be protected by a metal door and passcode lock behind a bookcase. He did have the option of trying to force his way in by shooting at the lock to open the door or kicking off the hinges with his strengthened feet, but he couldn't risk being heard by the guards or setting off some kind of alarm.

Time went by, and he still hadn't made any progress. He glanced at the big clock on the wall, which told him that it was a quarter to nine. Curfew would be in fifteen minutes, however, in the Royal Center, curfew did not apply since anyone who was allowed in obviously could be trusted enough to stay out of trouble without one. Lovino was close to giving up when he heard one of the heavy entrance doors open and then close, followed by someone entering the wide corridor in the middle of the first floor. He quickly, but silently, pushed the bookcase section back to its original place and hid behind a column, watching the man who had just entered make his way down the long corridor.

Lovino recognized this man as Arthur Kirkland, a powerful figure from the Western territory. No one actually knew what he did or why he was so powerful; he just was. To Lovino, this man was no more than another name on his list of evil morons to take down.

He could've done it right then and there. He had a loaded pistol. No one else seemed to be around. Arthur was completely vulnerable and clueless. But no, now was not the time. There was a certain way Lovino went about doing things that required planning and precision, and not spontaneous killing. Plus, if things got out of hand, he would be alone and could get in trouble quickly.

Arthur came closer and closer to the end of the room where Lovino had been a minute ago, eventually stopping at the bookcase covering the door. The entire time, Lovino kept himself hidden behind the column, but made sure he could see what the other was doing. As he silently moved from the column to a spot behind another bookcase, he heard the other shelves swing open. He crouched low to the ground and peered around the corner, seeing Arthur holding up a piece of paper. The formally-dressed man then neatly folded the slip of paper and hastily stuck it into his back pocket before punching in the code. Lovino focused his upgraded vision in an attempt to see the code without moving any closer, but it happened so quickly that all he could make out was that there were fourteen figures punched in, there were two words, the first word was longer than the second, the last word had two 7s in a row, and the last number entered was 8.

Once the door opened, Arthur quickly slipped inside, and the door and bookcase closed behind him on their own. Lovino was so upset with himself that he didn't even get a glimpse inside before everything shut back into place. He stood up from his crouching position angrily and scowled at the ground as he tried to keep himself from kicking the bookcase he was hiding behind down. His chance was gone! He was so close! He had it and he fucked it up!

Or maybe he didn't. Lovino paused his little internal temper tantrum to direct his attention to a little folded piece of paper sitting on the ground—the very same piece of paper Arthur had looked at before entering the passcode. Before opening it up, Lovino hid himself again just in case Arthur would come back out anytime soon.

The paper seemed like complete bullshit to Lovino. _New assets,_ it read. It was two words, but certainly not the passcode. It only added up to ten figures including the space, and the first word was shorter than the second. This was obviously just a clue to the actual passcode. Great.

 _What kind of new assets would our twisted government have?_ Lovino asked himself as he stared at the paper. _They're always creating new technology and upgrades... The second word has two 7s in a row and an 8 at the end. So... There's probably either a double 'P' or double 'S' there. The last letter is most likely a 'T' if this is in English._ He mentally face-palmed when he realized that the second word clearly was 'asset'. That left eight figures for the first word, which would have to use the number 3 multiple times since it would only be used once in the second word, and he had observed earlier that it was the most frequently pushed.

 _Come on, dammit... What kind of asset is this? The bastards around here like upgrades. Maybe an upgraded asset? That uses 3 three more times, and it's eight letters! Now I just have to wait for that bushy-browed moron to leave._

He sat and watched the door, and soon enough, the bookcase swung open and Arthur emerged from behind, carrying a purple notebook he didn't have before. He walked back up the corridor with a quickened pace as if in a hurry, and soon was out the front doors. After one of the night guards made a lap around the first floor and headed upstairs, Lovino immediately pushed the bookcase open once he was sure he was alone again. Using his handkerchief, he entered _87472333 27738_ and then waited, ready to make a quick escape if an alarm was set off. Seconds turned into a full minute, and nothing happened. "Fuck," he breathed, his high hopes crashing into the ground.

 _Maybe they used another word for 'upgraded',_ he thought, still set on the idea of this having something to do with upgrades. _Updated?_ He tried it, but once again, nothing happened. _Fuck, fuck, fuck! What else could it be?! I probably only have one more chance. Maybe I should abandon the whole upgrade thing... Wait a minute. Modified? Will that work?_ He took a deep breath and went over the numbers in his mind twice before putting it in. _66343433 27738_. There was a clicking sound, which prompted Lovino to grab the handle and open the door as he held his breath excitedly.

Once he was inside, the door shut itself behind him, and he faced forward to find himself standing at the top of a flight of stairs. He decided to turn his communicator back on as he walked down the smooth stairs. "I'm still in the grand library. Is there anything important that I've missed?" he asked quietly once it was turned on.

"You will never believe this," said the voice of one of his henchmen. "Amelia F. Jones is joining Gilbert Beilschmidt's rebellion. She was just in the Center with him and Mikkel Densen, and I believe I heard that they have arranged to meet in the Southern territory this Saturday."

"Bullshit," Lovino instantly remarked. He reached the bottom of the stairs. "Hold on, I've found some kind of underground area. Earlier, I figured out how to get past that locked door on the first floor of the library. I'll get back to you all once I return to the Center. My coms will be turned off from now until then." He switched the communicator off and hopped off the last step.

The room the man found himself in was fairly large and had a rectangular shape. The walls were a light-colored wood, and the floor was made of the the same creamy marble as the floors upstairs in the library. Above where Lovino stood was recessed lighting illuminating the room, signifying that there could still be people here. Along the walls were four doors, each with a plaque to label them: Citizen Database, Enemy Database, Surveillance and Tracking, and Classified Projects. _What the hell is this place?_ was the first thought that came to Lovino's mind as he stared at each of the doors with wide eyes.

As tempted as he was to take a peek inside each of the rooms, he knew there were people down here, and could not risk being caught in a place like this. He paused for a moment and listened for voices or movement behind the doors, and was happy to find that all but one was occupied. He took a very quick, cautious glance around the room before quietly stepping up to the door marked 'Enemy Database' and turning the handle slowly. On the other side was a dark, slightly larger room filled with computers and file cabinets. Lovino took his handkerchief out again so he could flip the light switch, and eventually decided to put on his wool gloves meant to warm up his hands in the cold. He would not leave a single trace of his presence here.

Once his thin gloves were on, he stood at the nearest computer and turned it on. The screen lit up, showing a single bar to input an 'enemy' name, as indicated above it in tiny black letters. He thought for a moment, and curiously typed 'Romano' into the bar. Information instantly popped up as he hit the enter key, and he eagerly read it over.

 _Full name: Unknown_

 _Alias(es): Romano_

 _Age; DOB: Early to mid twenties; Unknown_

 _Gender: Male_

 _General physical appearance: Unknown_

 _Home territory: Unknown_

 _Personal information: Unknown_

 _Upgrade(s): Possibly enhanced senses, possible feet or leg upgrades_

 _Last known location: Center_

 _Status: Alive_

 _Position on Wanted List: #1; wanted dead or alive_

 _Allies: Unknown_

The rest of the page showed other information such as the criminal acts he had committed, his behaviors, and more. Frankly, Lovino was not too surprised that this database existed, and he was thankful that they had close to nothing about him, and that the square in the upper left corner reserved for a picture was empty. He smirked, proud that he had been able to keep himself hidden from the eye of the Center so easily for so long. Self-praise aside and done with, he typed another name.

 _Full name: Antonio Fernández Carriedo_

 _Alias(es): None_

 _Age; DOB: 25; February 12, 2190_

 _Gender: Male_

 _General physical appearance: Brunette hair, green eyes, tan skin, 5'10"_

 _Home territory: Southern territory_

Lovino skimmed over everything with little interest for nothing except two little pieces of information. He read the lines over and over again, like he couldn't believe what he was looking at.

 _Status: Modified_

 _..._

 _Captured by: Amelia F. Jones and Madeline Williams_

This didn't make any sense. _Modified_. What the hell was that supposed to mean? It had to be something important. It was part of the passcode that got him into this place! Was Antonio still alive? It said _'Captured'_ rather than _'Killed'_ or _'Defeated'_ , so that had to mean he was alive, right? Then why did Gilbert come knocking at his door that fateful day to tell him that he had been killed by a soldier?! Lovino sat himself down and continued to stare at the screen in awe and confusion and hundreds of other overwhelming emotions. He scrolled back up to the picture of Antonio that had been placed in the upper left corner of the page and stared at that smile he missed seeing everyday.

He froze when he heard footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs outside and approach the Enemy Database room. The door handle turned, and Lovino let one hand settle on the gun in his belt as the door opened.


End file.
